


Breakfast: the most important meal of the day

by LeeJean



Series: Shameless: Mickey & Ian Gap Fillers [4]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Bipolar Ian Gallagher, Boys In Love, Canon Compliant, Domestic Fluff, Gap Filler, M/M, No Plot/Plotless, Porn with Feelings, Rimming, season 5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:42:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28264098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeeJean/pseuds/LeeJean
Summary: Set sometime in season 5 before Ian takes off with Yevgeny, and Mickey’s just doing his best to look after the boy he loves.“Ian can survive on two hours of sleep and a cup of black coffee.  Mickey can not.  He’s feeling the effects of the long days of work and the late night fuck fests.  He’s rung out, worn ragged from trying to keep up with Ian.”
Relationships: Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Series: Shameless: Mickey & Ian Gap Fillers [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2022445
Comments: 3
Kudos: 92





	Breakfast: the most important meal of the day

**Author's Note:**

> Titles are hard.
> 
> Not beta read.

Mickey’s fucking exhausted. 

How the fuck did Ian go from being practically comatose, wrapped up in a fucking cocoon of blankets in Mickey’s broken down old bed, to running marathons and bouncing off the walls?Mickey feels like he’s in a pinball machine, and Ian’s the ball, crashing around at random, with Mickey doing his best to slow him down, to make some sense out of his erratic movements.

And the sex.Holy fuck, the sex.Like, it’s good.Fucking amazing, actually.Ian’s never been so attentive.He’s taking the time to really learn what Mickey likes.When they were kids, Mickey liked anything.He just wanted a dick up his ass, and Ian was happy to oblige.The one time Mickey had tried to show Ian a secret piece of himself, Ian had scoffed, and fucked him over the sofa, despite his gunshot ass.And Mickey had let him, because it was Ian, and Mickey would take him anyway he could get him.

But now, Ian pays attention.He touches Mickey everywhere, pats him inquisitively with his hands, laps at his feverish skin with his tongue, curls his fingers in ways that have Mickey panting and arching and moaning in pleasure.Ian catalogues each reaction, stores it away for future use.

Ian can survive on two hours of sleep and a cup of black coffee.Mickey can not.He’s feeling the effects of the long days of work and the late night fuck fests.It’s not just his ass that is sore and screaming for a break; it’s his bones, muscles, tendons.He’s rung out, worn ragged from trying to keep up with Ian.And from the clanging and crashing coming from the Milkovich kitchen, there’s no end in sight.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Ian,” Mickey mumbles, sinking his face further into his pillow.It smells like Ian - the spicy cologne he wears to the club when he’s working, the gel he uses to slick back his hair.The musky smell of boy that is so deliciously Ian, a scent Mickey has loved for years, since he was being bent over in secret and fucked in places other than his bed.Mickey burrows his nose into the pillow, pulls the covers up over his head, and does his best to go back to sleep.

It must work, because the next thing Mickey knows, a small band of weak sunlight is filtering into the room between the closed blinds.He still feels groggy, but it’s a manageable sort of tired.He sits up, pushing his back against the wall, and rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands.He’s gotta piss like a racehorse, and he glances at an empty beer bottle on the side table for a second, wondering if he can get away with staying in bed and just pissing right there.Then he thinks about the fucking bottles stashed under the bed when Ian was low, how he found them one day while looking for his shoes, the horror he felt when the grim reality of the situation sunk in.Thankfully Ian was up and out of bed a few days later, and by the time Mickey found the courage to peek back under the bed, the bottles were gone.The memory is enough to push him out of bed and stumblinginto the bathroom.He finds a stray pair of boxers on the floor and steps into them when he’s done.

Ian must hear the toilet flush, because he’s leaning on the bedroom door jam, smiling at Mickey when he comes out of the bathroom.“You up for the day, Mick?” he asks, sounding wide awake and chipper as fuck.

Mickey groans as he throws himself back on the bed dramatically.“Can I say no, little Mary Sunshine?”

“Of course,” Ian says, solemnly. 

Mickey rolls over and opens his eyes.The smile has slipped from his boyfriend’s face, and now he looks a little lost and unsure of himself.“C’mere,” Mickey says, waving a hand and beckoning Ian to join him on the bed.

Ian’s smile returns, full force and blinding.It gives Mickey emotional whiplash, watching Ian’s moods swing so rapidly. “Actually, I’m working on something.Stay there,” Ian says excitedly as he rushes from their room.Mickey lets out another low groan.Ian ‘working on something’ could be as innocent as rearranging Yevgeny’s clothes by colour, or as time-consuming and dangerous as cleaning and organizing all the guns in the Milkovich house. 

Ian appears a few moments later with his hands behind his back.“I want to take care of you today, Mick.Like you take care of me.”Mickey’s heart clenches as he watches Ian’s earnest face, lets the plaintive tone of his voice sink in. 

“Sounds nice,” Mickey says gruffly, “but I hope you ain’t got banging on the agenda.My asshole needs a break.”

“You’re such a fucking charmer,” Ian says, shaking his head.“Here, let’s start with breakfast.”He walks fully into the room, and Mickey’s hit with the sweet smell of baking.“Coffee and pancakes drenched in whipped cream and syrup, just how you like ‘em.”

“Oh my God,” Mickey moans.There’s fucking bacon on the plate too, fried so crispy it’s almost burnt, and a few slice of banana.Mickey’s mouth is watering as he makes grabby hands for the plate.

“Breakfast in bed,” Ian pronounces, a shit-eating grin on his face.

And holy fuck, Mickey’s heart does a loop in his chest.No one’s ever made him breakfast in bed.Not even his mom, back when she was healthy enough to cook meals.This is like some next level, declaration of love type shit.

“There ain’t enough for you?I gotta eat this alone while you stare at me?” Mickey asks, while Ian eyes him intently.

“Oh, yeah,” Ian says with a laugh.“I’ll be right back.”

Mickey nibbles on a slice of bacon while he waits for Ian to return.The fat is perfectly crisp.He’s in fucking heaven.Even hearing Svetlana stroll into the kitchen and pester Ian can’t break Mickey’s good mood.

“Hey, orange boy!You make food for everyone?”

“You can have whatever’s left,” Ian says as he approaches Mickey’s door.

“You look after baby today.”It’s a demand, not a question. 

Ian’s usually all about hanging with Yevgeny, but he answers, “can’t today.Mick and I are busy.Take Yev to the rub and tug.Don’t worry about any loss of income, I’ll cover it.”He steps into the room and shuts the door before she can argue.Mickey’s surprised she’s not storming into the room, threatening to disembowel them both, but the breakfast in the kitchen is probably slowing her down.Ian’s been overdoing things a lot lately, and Mickey can picture pots and pans littering the stove and counters, heaping piles of food still warm in them.

“I made eggs, too,” Ian says, gesturing to a mound of cheesy scrambled eggs on his plate.“And hash browns.And toast.But I know you like the pancakes best.”

“I’ll have some eggs,” Mickey says around a mouthful of food.He uses his fork to steal a bite right off Ian’s plate.“Don’t want them to touch the syrup,” he explains.

“Yeah, I remember,” Ian says softly. 

They pick at each other’s plates, sharing food off their forks, and Mickey thinks this is the happiest he has ever been, right here in his grubby bedroom, feeding his boyfriend pieces of syrup-soggy pancakes.It’s way fucking more than he ever hoped for, growing up.

They finish up, and Ian grabs the plates and utensils, stacking them over on the bureau.Mickey flops down on the bed, starfishing on his stomach amoung the pillows and blankets, feeling warm and content. Ian approaches the bed, grabs Mickey’s leg and strokes his inner ankle bone in small circles with his thumb.Mickey cracks an eye open and looks up at Ian, who is gazing at Mickey with an adoring smile on his face.“You’re beautiful, Mick,” Ian says.

“Fuck off,” Mickey replies, embarrassed.He’s stuffed full from breakfast, and he’s wearing a stretched out old tank and a pair of plaid boxers that could be his or Ian’s, there’s no real distinction anymore.He knows he’s no prize in the looks department, sprawled out across the bed like a beached whale.

“No, really,” Ian says, urgent and sincere.He drops Mickey’s foot and sits down on the side of the bed, running a hand up and down Mickey’s back. 

“Yeah, ok Pretty Boy,” Mickey mumbles.Ian’s hand on his back feels nice as it pushes under his tank and strokes lightly just above his boxers.“Feels good.But I wasn’t fucking kidding, I need a break from banging today.”

“Told you I was gonna look after you,” Ian says, as he places both hands on Mickey’s back and pushes his tank up to his shoulder blades, pooling under his armpits.Ian drops his head and presses his lips along Mickey’s spine, trailing kisses down to the small of his back.“You smell amazing.”

“I smell like sweat and your jizz,” Mickey says, aware of how close Ian is to his asshole.Mickey hasn’t had a chance to shower yet, and he collapsed last night after their last round, dozing off before Ian had even pulled his cock out of Mickey’s ass.

“Mmmmm,” Ian grumbles, as he wiggles Mickey’s boxers down over his hips.Despite his earlier protests, Mickey raises his groin slightly off the bed to allow Ian easier access.Ian strips his boxers clean off, and says, “well I like it.”He grabs Mickey’s hips, gently tugging to urge Mickey to slide down the bed.“Scooch back, Mick.Dangle your legs off the side.”

Mickey pushes himself backwards using his elbows.He remains on his stomach, and the friction of the sheets and Ian’s amorous attentions have his cock starting to swell, a low heat building in the pit of his stomach.Ian wrestles him into position so his ass is right at the edge of the bed.He kneels down between Mickey’s legs, uses his hands to push Mickey’s thighs apart, then sweeps up to Mickey’s ass, kneading his cheeks and exposing his hole.Mickey gasps, his cock continuing to harden.

Ian pulls Mickey’s ass cheeks apart and holds them open, not moving, not making a sound.Mickey cranes his head over his shoulder to see Ian just staring at his hole, biting his lip, looking fucking wrecked.He wants to say something smart, like “take a picture why don’t ya?”, but the words die on his lips.He drops his head down into the fold of his arms and shuts his eyes, flustered as hell and yet so fucking turned on.

Ian lets go of one cheek and trails a finger down Mickey’s lower back, into the crack of his ass.When he reaches Mickey’s hole he stops, pets over it gently with a dry finger.And despite the ache in his ass, Mickey is tempted to push back, to feel that talented finger slip inside the warm heat of his body.

“Wanna eat you out Mick,” Ian says in a choked voice.He circles Mickey’s rim with the tip of his finger, so gently, almost reverently.Mickey usually likes to fuck hard and rough, but he’s enjoying Ian’s tenderness today, finding it oddly soothing.His bonesfeel like they are melting, turning him into a puddle on the bed.He’s relaxed and horny at the same time, and it’s a totally new experience for Mickey.

He shoves aside the worry about the state of his ass.Ian’s already fucking staring at it, so he can’t be turned off by the dried come, spit and lube from last night.“Fuck yeah,” Mickey says, and pushes his ass up slightly towards Ian.

Ian wastes no time diving forward and running his tongue over Mickey’s puffy red rim.He’s still a little loose, and Mickey can feel Ian’s tongue dip in a tiny bit on his first swipe over Mickey’s asshole.Mickey lets out a guttural moan, animalistic and raw.He’s not usually so loud, and it seems to spur Ian on.He’s lapping at Mickey’s hole with a vengeance, making the most debauched wet slurping noises that Mickey has ever heard. It’s so fucking filthy, in the best possible way.

Ian’s rimmed Mickey before, but never quite like this.It’s usually a means to an end - a way to get Mickey loosened up before Ian fucks him with that monster prick of his.A little tongue, a few fingers, and they are ready to go.Foreplay isn’t high on their list of priorities.

So Mickey’s kinda unprepared for the attention Ian is showing his ass.Ian’s alternating between long, broad strokes that start at Mickey’s balls and travel up his crack, and a stiffened tongue thrusting at Mickey’s hole, worming it’s way into Mickey’s entrance.Just when Mickey gets into the rhythm, Ian changes things up, wrapping his lips around Mickey’s puckered hole and sucking, scrapping his teeth carefully over the swollen rim.Mickey howls, fists his hands into the sheets over his head, and thrusts down on the mattress, seeking friction for his aching prick.

Ian pulls back and pats Mickey’s right butt cheek, before attaching his mouth to the join of Mickey’s thigh and ass.Mickey’s never been one for hickeys, but Jesus fuck, the feel of Ian marking him there, so private and dirty, sends a race of lust straight to his groin.“Ian...” Mickey slurs, just trailing off into a punched out moan.

“Yeah Mickey?” Ian asks, lips still pressed to Mickey’s cheek.His voice is muffled, but he sounds just as crazed as Mickey is feeling.Mickey doesn’t reply.Can’t reply.He just grunts as Ian laps at his balls and perineum.“You like that?Want me to keep going?”The tongue returns to Mickey’s hole, moving in fast circles and pushing in while Ian brings a hand up, and starts massaging the sensitive skin between Mickey’s ass and balls.

“Uuunnghhh,” Mickey groans out.He feels Ian’s lips widen, smiling into Mickey’s ass as he eats him out, and suddenly Mickey needs to come so fucking bad he can taste it.“Wanna come, Ian” he manages to stutter out.

“Fuck yes, Mickey.Wanna swallow your come.Wanna come on your asshole.”

“Holy fucking shit!” Mickey says, voice increasing in volume until he’s yelling, “fucking do it, Ian.Come on my asshole.” 

Ian’s hands leave Mickey’s body, and he hears the shuffling of Ian standing up and pushing down his pants.Mickey brings his feet off the floor and onto the bed, pulling his knees under him to better present himself.“Oh my God, Mickey.Look at you.”Ian reaches forward with his left hand and pulls at Mickey’s hole with his thumb.His right hand works his cock at a furious speed.“Gonna come on your pretty hole.”Ian’s dick is suddenly there, resting on Mickey’s ass cheek, and Ian’s spurting warm come all over Mickey’s asshole.It drips down his perineum, getting caught on the curly hair of his balls.It’s fucking obscene, and Mickey loves every minute.

“Flip over on your back,” Ian says as he grabs Mickey’s hips and helps manoeuvre him on the bed.Mickey barely has time to settle before Ian is lunging forward and closing his mouth around Mickey’s rock hard cock.Ian brings a hand to Mickey’s wet balls, rolls them between his fingers, and Mickey’s fucking done.He’s pulsing down Ian’s throat, so fucking shattered that his mouth is open in a soundless cry.He’s lost the ability to even fucking moan.

Mickey’s a boneless, floppy mess.He lets Ian pick him up by the armpits and arrange his body on the bed so that Mickey’s laying in his normal spot.Ian curls up behind him, throwing an arm around Mickey’s waist and pulling his back into Ian’s chest.Ian plants a chaste kiss on to the back of Mickey’s head, right where his hair begins, before nuzzling his nose into the crook of Mickey’s neck and inhaling deeply.“Love how you smell.”

Mickey smiles. He finds his voice, and says, teasingly, “yeah, I think you mentioned that.Fucking weirdo. I need a shower.”

“Later. I’ll wash you up.” Mickey’s heart skips a beat as Ian noses at his shoulder. “You sorta smell like syrup.”

“Oh, is my intoxicating body odour making you fucking hungry?”

Ian chuckles into Mickey’s neck, raising goose pimples along his flushed skin, and says, “Nah, I just ate.Pretty big meal, too.”

“You better not be saying I have a fat ass, Gallagher,” Mickey threatens playfully.

“You have the best ass,” Ian replies, rubbing his soft cock against it.

“Hmmm,” Mickey hums.He’s fighting to stay awake, feeling totally sated.“Hey, thanks for breakfast. Was really fucking good.”

“Yeah, no problem, Mick.”Ian’s quiet for a moment.“So, what do you wanna do today?We got the whole day to ourselves.”

“Can we start with a nap?I’m fucking beat.”Mickey doesn’t hold out much hope that Ian will be able to sleep, so he pleasantly surprised when the arm around his waist reaches out to grab Mickey’s hand, linking their fingers together over Mickey’s stomach.

“Yeah, we could do that,” Ian whispers.And it must be Mickey’s lucky day, because within minutes, Ian’s arm goes slack and he’s breathing deeply into Mickey’s ear.Mickey lets the soothing feel of Ian’s rising chest, and the steady rhythm of his pounding heart, lull him to sleep.


End file.
